Stare
Directly follows last chapter, "Haunted"
General content advisories for some pretty unethical behavior (but probably fits off-screen canon)
Phil glanced down once more at his phone, checking the coordinates. Since this was most definitely off-books, he used a prepaid cell that he paid cash for. SHIELD didn't know about it. (He also had a few aliases SHIELD didn't know about, and he used one of those to rent the car he was driving.)
It had been several hours since he got a text with the words we got him followed by a string of numbers. It took him a while to bushwhack his way to the Shenandoah Valley where the coordinates directed him because he both wanted to ensure he wasn't being followed and the driving got a bit more challenging through the mountains and the further away from civilization he went.
He eventually turned left onto an ill-kept dirt road. The GPS beeped about three miles down that road and he pulled off. Through the trees he could see a cabin. He shot off a quick text: here. He was expected, but he'd rather not be shot at by well-trained assassins. He exited the car when a figure emerged from the front door.
"Barton," he greeted.
"Sir," the other agent nodded and led him inside. "One of Tasha's safe-houses," he explained as they walked through the interior. The archer brought him to the bedroom where he lifted a rug to reveal a trapdoor. He opened it and gestured for Phil to descend first.
When he reached the bottom of the ladder, Phil took note of the room. It was small- no bigger than the floorplan upstairs would suggest and built from cinder block. If he stretched his arms above his head, he'd probably be able to lay his palms flat against the ceiling. He was also sure Natasha had another exit besides the ladder. A tunnel probably.
There was a tapping sound. It was Natasha's foot, which she tapped against the floor as she stared unblinkingly at the man restrained in the chair bolted to the floor in the center of the room. Phil's eyes zeroed in on the contusions covering his face.
Clint smirked and handed him a file. "He's, uh, a little clumsy. He tripped and hit the side of the car getting in."
Phil glanced at the archer knowingly before skimming the pages. He approached the man. "Your name is David Layton. Is that correct?"
Layton tugged at his restraints. "Who the fuck are you people?"
"Answer the question please. Is your name David Layton?" Phil studied the man. He clearly cared about his appearance-Phil knew the look of tailored menswear. Status was important to him. His public life was an important job with powerful friends, exhibited by his work in the upper echelons of the premiere conservative think tank. He would have associates in the corporate world and on the Hill. Status markers in his personal life were a young, beautiful wife and perfect children. Things that did nothing to advance that image were dealt with.
Right now, there was a glimmer of sweat on his forehead; his clothes were rumpled and dirty, and Phil could see his carotid artery jumping with anxiety. Good.
"You kidnapped me! I'm not telling you people a damned thing!" And he was still feeling combative. Also good.
Phil allowed a small smile to appear on his face. "Mr. Layton, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. And I must say, I'm going to enjoy doing this the hard way, so you're going to want to factor that into your decision."
Layton's lips pressed together, apparently taking Phil's warning as a bluff.
Phil shrugged and nodded at Natasha. "I should also make it abundantly clear that we are not the police. You have no rights here."
He remained silent.
Natasha handed Phil a syringe and Phil watched as Layton's eyes tracked it.
The man gulped. "What is that?"
Phil looked down at the syringe and gestured with it. "For the purposes of your understanding, this is sodium pentathol- truth serum. We've… made some modifications, so that's not really what it is. But that's all you need to know."
Phil approached him and he struggled. However, Laura's ex was no match for Natasha's iron grip on his shoulder, so Phil was able to inject him with little fuss.
The agent put the empty syringe back on the small table it came from. He spoke. "In a moment, you'll start to feel relaxed. You'll want to answer our questions, and if you are conditioned in any way to be resistant to sodium pentathol or otherwise try to resist its effects, you will feel a burning sensation that will persist until you answer satisfactorily. Now," he walked back to Layton, "your name is David Layton, correct?"
The muscles in Layton's face were relaxed. "Yes."
"And you were born on April 27, 1972?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's try something else." Phil glanced at the file. "Are you are familiar with a woman named Laura Schulz?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"We were married."
"Are you still married?"
"No."
Phil crossed his arms. "Why did you marry her?"
"Because I thought she'd fit in my 10-year plan."
"Did she?" Natasha asked before Phil could.
"No."
From where he was standing guard and watching the proceedings, Clint growled. Phil silenced him with a Look.
"Why not?" Phil asked, still exuding the cool aura of a man who knew he was in control.
Layton paused and then grunted, starting to feel the more painful effects of the serum. Then he answered, "She can't have kids."
Phil made a noncommittal sound. "Is that why you divorced?"
This time, Layton bit his lip firmly in an attempt to keep from answering. Sweat beaded at his temples and his face was turning red, but whether it was from pain or exertion, Phil didn't care. In fact, he was almost impressed by the effort Layton was putting in to keep from speaking. Almost.
"Hmm… I'll rephrase the question. Who divorced whom?"
"She divorced me," Layton ground out and his coloring slowly returned to normal.
"And why did she divorce you, Mr. Layton?"
Phil held back his enthusiasm. He was exactly where he wanted to be now. Interrogation was something he always enjoyed. he had a natural, but carefully honed, skill in extracting information without getting his hands dirty (so to speak). Truth serum wasn't in his usual repertoire, but he was under a bit of a time crunch- needing to complete this before SHIELD realized he wasn't where he should be. The serum had the added bonus of having painful side-effects, which this scumbag more than deserved.
And this scumbag was trying very hard to not answer that particular question.
"Did you hit her, Mr. Layton? Is that why she divorced you?" Phil continued with his questioning.
"Yes!" he gasped. "Yes, I hit her, and that's why she divorced me."
"How often did you hit her?"
"Just the one time."
Phil glanced down again at the file. "And that was the first time police were called to your residence?"
"Yes."
"What happened the second time police were called? Did you hit her then as well?"
The man shook his head. "No."
"What did you do?"
"Threatened her."
Natasha voiced her question. "Why? Why wouldn't you welcome the divorce? After all, she didn't fit into your ten-year plan."
"I thought it would be bad for my reputation."
"Oh, but hitting your wife was just fine for it?" Clint snarked from where he was standing.
Layton tried to shrug, but the restraints kept him from much movement. "No one would have known about it."
"I guess you don't know Laura quite as well as you thought you did," Phil commented, smoothly taking back control of the interrogation. "One last thing. You're current wife, Genevieve, and your children, Adam and Claire, have you hit them?"
"No."
"I think what he means is 'not yet'," Clint interjected.
"Hmm." Phil walked back to the table and picked up a second syringe. "This is something new we're working on. It's a tracking system that we can follow due to its trace amounts of radiation. Oh, don't worry- you won't be setting off any geiger counters," Phil said as he injected the man. "We'll be watching you. If you lay even so much as a finger on your family that endangers them, we'll know. If you try to run, we'll find you. The furthest, most desolate corners of the globe won't be able to hide you."
Layton's eyelids started to droop.
"Drowsiness is a side-effect. You'll wake up in a motel. You and some NRA buddies went on a hunting trip and you got injured. That's it." Phil then walked in front of Layton, and grasped the back of the chair while leaning into his space. " And if you come anywhere near Laura Schulz again, I will kill you myself. Do I make myself clear?"
Layton's eyes rolled back in his head.
Phil straightened back up.
"We'll take care of the rest here, Boss," Clint assured. Natasha nodded in agreement. Phil had a sneaking suspicion that Layton might be a tad more injured when he woke up.
"Keep it consistent with the story we gave him. He'll question it if they don't match. I need to get back to the district. Let me know how it goes."
Phil got home late that night- Laura was already in bed asleep. He climbed in next to her.
"Mmmm… Phil?" The bed shifting must have woken her up. "What time is it?"
Phil wrapped an arm around her. "Shh… it's late. Go back to sleep."
Laura rolled into his side and fell back asleep. Phil followed suit sometime later.
A/N:
While I don't personally believe in human experimentation/unconsented-to procedures, Agents of SHIELD has made it clear that Coulson is mostly okay with it. He headed Project T.A.H.I.T.I and only removed himself when GH-325 wasn't proving to be viable. He apparently didn't have issues taking tissues from an unknowing host and there must have been several trials that yielded mental deterioration as a side-effect before he decided to step down.
If you are or someone you know (in the United States) is in an abusive relationship, the following hotlines are staffed 24/7 by trained counsellors who can help.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 18007997233
Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network (RAINN): 18006564673